Hold My Hand
by firewaterspaceairearth
Summary: The Warblers don't know everything which happened to Kurt at McKinley and before. Mini drabble series, not in strict chronological order, more or less canon-compliant.
1. Hold My Hand

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

The sharp thud of the gavel silenced the general chatter in the room immediately.

"Warblers, due to the absence of Blaine, our main soloist, we will be unable to practice our competition pieces today." Thad was in his element at the front of the room. Before he could continue, David took over.

"So today we're going to make a start on the songs planned for the performance at the nursing home in a couple of months." Thad took the opportunity to jump back in.

"As the soloists for these pieces are currently undecided, anyone who may be interested in a solo may take it for today." This instantly caused a buzz of excited chatter, and Wes had to use his gavel several times before the room quieted.

"Warblers, who would like the solo for the first number?" Wes asked as David and Thad began passing out sheet music. Kurt, Nick and Jeff, amongst others, raised their hands before recieving the papers.

"Kurt, your voice would suit the song. Would you like the solo?" Kurt nodded eagerly, barely stopping himself from jumping up and down like an idiot. Then he actually looked at the song. His heart fell.

"Um, David? I can't...I can't do this song." His pleas went unheard. The council were already arranging everyone into formation, so Kurt took the spot Blaine usually had, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction. The introduction started, slightly quiet and uncertain, but it picked up confidence as a few more people recognised the song. Kurt took a deep breath.

_ "I'll tell you something _

_I think you'll understand_

_ When I'll say that something _

_I wanna hold your hand_

_ I wanna hold your hand_

_ I wanna hold your hand"_

His breathing hitched and he swallowed down a sob as the song continued.

_"Oh please, say to me_

_ You'll let me be your man _

_And please, say to me _

_You'll let me hold your hand_

_Now let me hold your hand _

_I wanna hold your hand"_

His voice wobbled but held the note, just. Wes glanced at him, but due to the arrangement of the group, nobody could see his face. The song continued, and then the impossible happened.

Kurt missed his cue.

Thad clapped twice, a signal to stop.

"Kurt, did you misread the music?" Kurt didn't answer, hunching in on himself as tears streamed down his face. A barely audible sniff escaped him. David heard it, and broke the formation to come round and tap him on the shoulder.

"Kurt? Are you ok?" The rest of the Warblers fell completely silent. You could hear a pin drop, let alone Kurt's quiet, barely restrained sobs. Wes hurriedly banged his gavel on the nearest wall.

"Warblers dismissed!" The group dissipated eventually, Thad practically pushing them out of the door. Then it was just Wes and David crowding round Kurt. David led him over to a chair, gently forcing him to take a seat. Kurt promptly buried his face in his hands.

"Where the hell is Blaine when you need him?"

"Some fight club competition."

"You don't know anything else?"

"No, he wouldn't say anything else-"

"Because you _don't talk about fight club_."

The all too familiar phrase was hollow. Wes knelt down in front of Kurt, taking one of his hands away from his face.

"Kurt, what's wrong? Is everything ok?" Kurt nodded, wiping tears from his face with his free hand.

"It's just the song...Memories, you know?" Wes and David nodded. They knew the New Directions often did songs with a lot of in-depth feeling, depending on the circumstances.

"Do you want to talk about it?" David asked tentatively, sitting next to Kurt. Kurt gave a shaky choking sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"My dad had a heart attack a while ago. He was in a coma, and there was a point when they didn't know if he was going to make it. I sang that song for him in glee," he explained, staring down at the floor. "I just felt so helpless and scared, and there weren't really any adults around I trusted that much. My mom died when I was eight," he added, seeing Wes and David's looks of confusion. "It basically all came rushing back. I'm really sorry for disrupting practice, guys."

Wes and David instantly hugged Kurt as tightly as possible. Kurt spluttered for a second, then relaxed into the embrace. Eventually he pulled away.

"I'm going to go wash my face, and my hair probably looks hideous. Thank you, though. For everything." He left the room with quick, nervous footsteps. Wes and David exchanged glances, and left as well.

The sheet music lay forgotten on various chairs.

* * *

Later that evening, three texts were sent.

**Thad: We're taking I want to hold your hand off the setlist. There's a private reason. -Wes **

_Blaine: Kurt may need a hug when you get back. A lot of hugs. -David _

**Dad: I love you. -Kurt**


	2. Cold

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Kurt knew it had been a bad idea to put Nick and Jeff in charge of refreshments.

He and Blaine had done pretty well at decorating, once he'd convinced Blaine that there was no need for so many streamers on the bookshelves (and he still didn't know how he'd even got up there). Thad and Wes had embraced their inner control freaks, which had been slightly terrifying to watch, especially when they argued about the precise orders, or formations, or even whether the CDs should be played alphabetically or by length. Thad had produced a storming out worthy of Rachel Berry at that one.

But Nick and Jeff, without a doubt, were the most hyperactive boys Kurt had ever met. So really, it was no surprise that they arrived and began unloading bags of what amounted to several tonnes of sugar in various forms. Kurt winced to think of what would happen if they ate even a fraction of that. Then they brought in a huge, churning machine, dramatically whisking the covering off (knocking down a pile of plastic cups in the process).

"Oh my god, you guys! Where did you _get_ that?"

"Pulled some strings, called in a few favours, and _voilà_." While the others clamoured around the giant slushie machine, Kurt ducked under the table to gather up the scattered plastic cups. Emerging, he squared his shoulders. This was David's birthday party. He deserved to have fun, although getting seriously punished by the principal seemed like a really bad idea. Even for the Warblers.

Blaine caught him as he was stacking paper plates in the corner.

"Just warning you, this could get messy. Like, food fight messy." Kurt raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the antique books, the stiffly ironed blazers, the ridiculous quantities of sweets on the table. Blaine shrugged.

"Love you."

"You too," Kurt replied, glancing at the slushie machine again.

* * *

Blaine was right, Kurt thought ruefully as he sat in a corner watching Nick pelt Thad with gummy bears before ducking back behind an armchair. Thad was looking round in complete confusion, trying to figure of where they were coming from. Blaine and Jeff were under the table, giggling unstoppably as they wrapped the gavel in strawberry laces. Wes had yet to notice. Kurt had succeeded in avoiding whatever craziness had been happening, retreating to a corner with a slice of cake and a can of Diet Coke to watch the chaos expand. Suddenly, an obviously hyper David climbed on the council desk.

"Water fight!" he yelled. This was met with cheers.

"With these!" someone else shouted. Kurt turned, and in the midst of the enthusiasm, his heart sank. Everyone rushed to get outside, which was a small relief. Maybe he could just hide inside while they- Blaine tugged him upright, forcing a cup into his hand.

"Come on, Kurt! I've never had a water fight with slushies before!" And that's how Kurt found himself on the front lawn of Dalton Academy, watching his usually relatively sane friends toss frozen drinks in each others faces, shrieking and laughing hysterically. He tried to back away, slip back inside unnoticed.

"Hey, Kurt!" He turned automatically. That was really stupid. He didn't even see who it was. Then he had a faceful of crushed ice. It was in his hair. His ears. His eyes. His mouth. It even went up his nose. Vaguely, he heard more laughter. The slushie stung his eyes, so he squeezed them shut. It was trickling down his neck, down his back. He licked his lips. Strawberry. Could be worse. Then his legs seemed to give up, or sink into the ground or something, and he was left sitting on the damp, sticky grass. He could still hear them, the jocks, laughing, taunting whoever they were picking on this time._ Oh yeah._ _That was him._ Then he heard voices. Closer, right in front of him.

"-Kurt! Can you hear me?"

It's Blaine.

"Oh crap, I should have thought..." Someone was trying to pull him upright. Kurt shrugged them off, standing up by himself, eyes still tightly closed.

"What's happening? What's wrong with him?" Someone was propelling him indoors, along a corridor to the bathroom. He heard a tap running.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry, I should have remembered, I'm such an idiot..." Blaine handed him a soaked cloth, and Kurt wiped it across his face. His mind cleared along with his vision. Blaine was leaning against the sinks, still apologising. His hair was covered in half melted ice. Evidently someone had tipped their drink on top of him.

"Blaine, it's fine. I'll explain tomorrow, when everyone's less insane. Right now, I'm going to wash that mess out of your hair."

The next day, as he'd said, Kurt tried to explain to the Dalton Academy Warblers exactly why he had freaked out when someone threw a slushie in his face. Nobody, aside from Blaine, had ever heard of slushie facials, and as a result, they couldn't understand exactly what had been going on.

"Wait, does that mean they were buying a slushie just to chuck it at someone? That seems kind of stupid," Jeff said at one point.

"Yeah, but the machine charges you per cup, and everyone just refilled their cups over and over. It's ridiculous. At one point, we all wore raincoats between classes for a while. It's almost a running a joke back in McKinley."

The group of Warblers stared at him.

"Wow. That explains a lot," Wes muttered. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"For example?"

"Well," Wes said, completely straight faced, "It explains why the New Directions chucked glitter at the judges during Regionals." Several Warblers laughed, making the connection straightaway. Jeff frowned, then his face cleared.

"_Oh!_ Right. Yeah, that made no sense. But it does now." At this, everyone laughed. Then David raised his hand.

"Guys, that was the best birthday party ever, but just out of curiosity, were we supposed to clean it up before anyone saw it?"

Twelve seconds later, all anyone would see heading towards the common room was an extremely panicked, blazer clad blur.


	3. Cheer

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

"Mercedes, it's Blaine. This is an SOS call."

_"What? Is everything ok? Is Kurt ok?"_

"No!" The Warbler flopped back on his bed in despair, pressing the phone to his ear. "He's threatening to give all my hair gel to Nick and Jeff!"

_"The blonde one and his friend? What's so bad about that?"_

"Have you met those two?" Mercedes was silent for a few seconds as she thought.

_"Ah."_

"Exactly! Last time they got their hands on it, it took three days to clear up the mess!"

_"What did they do? Or should I not ask?"_

"They somehow got hold of a bag of grass clippings and used the gel to stick it to the gavel. Wes assumed I was involved, and it took months for him to trust any of us with it again."

_"Right. I'm sure Kurt means no harm, he's done similar things to me before. The only way to get him to give up is blackmail. Embarassment works best."_

Blaine sat up, a spark of hope igniting. "Have you got anything?"

_"Blaine, you can't tell Kurt that I told you. Promise?"_

"Warbler's honour," Blaine replied, tapping the badge pinned to his blazer.

_"Ok, Blaine. Youtube- McKinley High Cheerios."_

"What?" Mercedes hung up with a click. Blaine swung himself upright, and switched on his laptop. Three minutes later, he sent a Warbler-wide text.

**DA Warblers: My room, now. This is good. -Blaine**

It took several minutes for everyone to arrive. Kurt was squashed up at the back of the room, near the door. Blaine cleared his throat.

"Kurt, give back the hair gel." A ripple of amusement ran through the assembled Warblers. Somebody cheered.

"No. I am infamous for _at least_ two things- number one, excellent hair advice, number two, never backing down," Kurt replied primly, with as much dignity as he could muster.

Blaine shrugged. "Then you leave me no choice. Gentlemen, this should only take a few minutes. Four, to be precise." He turned the laptop round, hitting play as he did so. Behind him, Kurt frowned, then, as a brass band marched through a group of cheerleaders, his face flushed pink with understanding.

"Blaine, don't you-"

_ "Come on, Kurt Hummel!"_

And with that, the Warbler's collective jaws dropped. Blaine barely heard Kurt's protests.

_"Come on girl, _

_I've been waiting..."_

Kurt pushed through the boys, attempting to get to the laptop. "Blaine Anderson, turn that off _right now!_ I'm serious!" he shrieked, shoving Thad sideways. The Warbler playfully pushed him back, away from Blaine. Kurt growled. "Blaine! You can have the stupid hair gel!"

Blaine couldn't care less about the hair gel. He was too busy watching Kurt dancing and singing with freaking cheerleaders, to_ Madonna_ no less.

_"If you want it _

_You already got it _

_If you got it _

_It better be what you want..."_

Kurt gave up and buried his head in his hands.

Mercedes was so dead for this.

* * *

**Song- Four Minutes- Madonna (Glee cast version)**


	4. Balloon

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Kurt couldn't help it.

He'd tried protesting, claiming he had homework.

"Seriously, guys, I really need to finish that essay for Monday."

"It won't take that long, Kurt! All work and no play..."

He'd tried blaming the weather.

"Isn't it a bit cold? And I thought it was going to rain today, wasn't it?"

"We'll use warm water! And we'll be wet already, right?"

He'd even tried hiding. Not that it worked against boys who had been at the school for years. Nothing had worked. That's the only reason Kurt was standing holding a water balloon, filled with warm water as promised, facing a team of similarly armed Warblers.

"Three! Two-" Before Wes could finish his countdown, Jeff threw one of his balloons. It hit him square in the face. Wes glared at the blonde boy.

"Oh, it's on, Sterling. Go!" Water balloons flew like small, brightly coloured cannonballs. The two teams were both dripping in seconds. In a moment of luck, Nick managed to throw a balloon so that it intercepted another midair, and ducked in time for a third to hit Wes in the ear. Unfortunately, this caused Wes to tackle him and stuff a balloon down his neck, during which they were both pelted with the missiles. Kurt managed to stay out of the line of fire for about five minutes, passing balloons to Blaine, Jeff, and David, who had the best aim and were already thoroughly soaked. Then an almost balletic leap meant that a balloon missed Jeff and flew on, bursting against his blazer. Kurt froze, feeling the warm, wet liquid splashing over his face. Then he doubled over, throwing up on the grass.

"Kurt?" Blaine turned, and instantly rushed to the taller boy's side. Kurt coughed, shoulders trembling.

"Please don't, p-please don't," he stammered, standing up shakily. Blaine frowned in confusion.

"Kurt, I won't. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to-" Kurt turned on his heel and fled back into the school. Blaine stared after him miserably. "...help," he finished. He made to follow Kurt inside, but Wes called him back.

"Blaine, he looked like he needed some space. Last time this sort of thing happened, he seemed to try and escape quite quickly."

Blaine whipped round to glare at the other boys, a forgotten water balloon falling from his fingers. "What do you mean, last time?"

"The whole song thing. He was really upset, remember?" David said awkwardly.

Blaine stared at him. "How upset?"

"We cancelled Warbler rehearsal?" Nick mumbled, instantly regretting it. Blaine switched his worried glare to him.

"_What!_ Right."

"Blaine, wait!" But he was already sprinting across the grass towards the school. The Warblers exchanged glances.

"Right, Kurt has to tell us all his weird trigger things some day, because this really has to stop happening," Jeff muttered, tossing a water balloon from hand to hand. The Warblers nodded in agreement.

Blaine knocked on the door tentatively. He could hear running water from behind it.

"Kurt?" No response. Blaine leant against the opposite wall, biting his bottom lip. He knew from several awkward experiences that it was pointless trying to get people in the shower to hear you. Especially if they were deliberately ignoring you.

Eventually, about ten minutes later, once Blaine's legs had gone to sleep, the door opened. "Hey," Blaine said, raising a hand. Kurt turned to face him, looking like a startled rabbit. His face was scrubbed red.

"Oh. Hi, Blaine. Have you been there the entire time?" Blaine shrugged in response.

"So, what was all the stuff with the water balloons earlier?" Kurt slid down the wall until he was sitting opposite Blaine and mumbled a sentence of unintelligible gibberish. Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"They threw pee balloons at me," Kurt muttered miserably. "At McKinley. A bunch of jocks drove past and chucked water balloons filled with urine at me." Blaine winced. That, unfortunately, explained a lot. "I went home and showered for an hour, and I never wore those clothes again, but I still hate people throwing water balloons and stuff at me. We did this mashup of Umbrella and Singing in the Rain once. Mr Schue decided to flood the auditorium, and we were splashing water everywhere. It sucked," he said sadly. Blaine inched closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you going to tell the Warblers?" he asked. Kurt shook his head violently.

"No. I'm a very private person, and that's too personal, too... Just no." Blaine nodded. There were things from his own bullying he hadn't even told his brother, let alone his friends. Plus Kurt was seriously the Fort Knox of privacy. He wrapped an arm round Kurt's shoulders gently, showing support silently.

Kurt couldn't help it.

He accepted the hug.


	5. Kick

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

"Never have I ever!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. Wes and Thad were both away at the chess club tournament or something, and the Warblers rehearsal was dissolving into chaos. After a quick practice of the setlist, nothing like the stiff, almost military recitals Wes insisted on, David had vaulted over the council table and declared some team building activities.

"Everyone get into a circle! Has everyone played before? We'll each hold up ten fingers, and if you have done it, you stand up and fold a finger down. I'll go first!" David said enthusiastically. "Ok...Never have I ever... Ridden in a lorry!" Kurt and several others stood up.

"Does one of those tow truck things count?" someone asked. Apparently it didn't, and the game moved to Jeff.

"Never have I ever...crap... Never have I ever had any nicknames, nice or otherwise!"

"That's what _you_ think," Nick muttered, standing up with the rest of the room. Jeff frowned, but everyone was already looking at Blaine. "Never have I ever won a game of Monopoly," he said quickly.

"What's Monopoly?" Jeff asked, looking blank. The resulting laughter covered the next boy's statement, and he had to repeat it. The game continued in a similar way, and by the time it reached Nick, Kurt only had one finger left.

"Never have I ever...played in a school football team?"

"I'm out," Kurt said, waving his closed fists. Everyone stared at the slim, fashion conscious boy. Kurt coloured slightly. "What are you staring at?"

Blaine coughed. "You were on a football team?"

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah. Not for long, though."

"What position did you play?" Nick asked, looking over Kurt's slight frame sceptically.

"Quarterback," Kurt replied immediately. He allowed the Warblers to splutter incredulously for a few seconds before he smiled. "No, I was the kicker. I taught the entire team to dance to Beyonce. Blaine, are you ok?" he added, snapping his fingers in front of the other boy's face. Blaine jumped. The Warblers laughed.

"You taught the football team to dance? To _Beyonce_?" David asked. Kurt nodded, laughing at the reactions this got from the other Warblers. "I convinced them to do it in the middle of the match."

"That was you guys?" Jeff said excitedly. Everyone stared at him. "Uh, my cousin goes out with one of the guys on the team. She kept moaning to my sister that he kept moaning about having to dance in football. She thought they were all mad." Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "No offence?"

"What song did you do?" Blaine asked, changing the subject.

Kurt smirked.

**Ten minutes later**

_ "Cause if you liked it then you should've put a ring on it _

_If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it"_

The group followed Kurt in the routine seamlessly.

_ "Don't be mad when you see that he want it_

_ If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it"_

Wes and Thad chose that moment to walk in.

The chess club trophy fell to the floor.

"David? Kindly explain what's going on?"


	6. National Champion

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

**Prompted by Kina-san. Thank you!**

* * *

Kurt had to admit, the Warblers couldn't really dance. They could do a sort of rhythmic shuffle with the odd spin, but it was nothing compared to the intense choreography of New Directions, let alone the Cheerios. The dancing looked good, all synchronised and stuff, but even Finn could cope with it. Mostly. It was really no surprise that occasionally, David would backflip his way out of the room, or Blaine would risk a broken ankle by leaping onto a wobbly table. The moves were not challenging. They were not particularly impressive compared to other glee clubs. But that didn't mean that other people were allowed to come up and say that. Especially not...

"Oh, you're from Dalton? Should've been able to tell from the uniforms." Jesse folded his arms over his chest, eyeing the group disdainfully.

Wes nodded, extending a hand. "And you are?"

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Jesse St James, of Vocal Adrenaline," Kurt said smoothly. "What brings you to a nursing home?"

"Visiting my grandmother," Jesse replied briskly. "What brings Kurt Hummel down to the Dalton Academy Warblers?"

Wes looked suspicious. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Geographical location. Westerville is further west than Lima," Jesse shot back. "If you'd rather take it on a metaphorical level, I believe that a comment on dancing ability is an accurate interpretation."

"Which means?" Wes prompted, looking more annoyed at each comment.

Jesse leant back against the wall. "You generally have three levels of dancing ability in a show choir," he drawled, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. "The sort of intense, gravity defying feats Vocal Adrenaline are infamous for. Then you have the intricate running round the stage and twirling favoured by New Directions. And finally, the basic two step and spin." He demonstrated with a caricature of the Warbler's signature move. "Barely even dancing, more on a level with, say, cheerleaders. _Two, four, six, eight!" _he called mockingly, waving imaginary pompoms. An old lady poked her head out of a nearby door.

"Keep that noise down!" she snapped at Jesse. Then she saw the Warblers, and smiled brightly. "Lovely singing, boys. The old tunes are always the best." The Warblers smiled and nodded to her, before smirking at Jesse.

Kurt gestured to the doors. "Let's take this outside, shall we?" he said calmly. Once everyone had assembled on the smooth lawn, Kurt pulled David and Blaine aside. He started whispering and gesturing mysteriously to them. Wes, Thad and the others steadily glared at Jesse.

"Actually, we're an a capella group, not a show choir," Thad said smugly.

"And Westerville is south-east of Lima, not west," Wes added.

Jesse rolled his eyes.

Kurt cleared his throat. "If you would kindly pay attention for a few minutes?"

Then everything went completely insane. Kurt backflipped and cartwheeled his way over the grass, singing in what seemed to be French. Jeff would later firmly deny letting out a nervous cry when the countertenor was thrown several feet in the air, landing lightly in Blaine and David's arms. He finished with a sarcastic bow, arms spread out like wings. There was clapping, both from the nursing home windows and the watching Warblers.

"That was very impressive," Jesse said drily, "Whatever 'that' was." Kurt caught his breath quickly, brushing a few strands of hair back into place.

"_That_ was cheerleading, Jesse. To be specific, it was part of the winning routine performed by the Cheerios at the 2012 National Championship. The full routine involved several moves usually only performed by trained stunt actors, the highest pyramid in a competition since 1987, and was choreographed to a Celine Dion medley lasting almost quarter of an hour, sung entirely in French by yours truly. So no, the Warbler's performances are quite definitely not cheerleading." A horn sounded in the parking lot. Kurt smiled smugly at Jesse. "That's our bus. Nice catching up with you, let's _not_ do it again sometime." He turned and sauntered away towards the bus. The Warblers followed in awestruck silence. It lasted until everyone was on the bus.

"Ok, what the hell just happened?" Wes demanded, twisting round in his seat.

Kurt smiled serenely, looking at his nails. "Like I said, part of one of the most elaborate cheerleading routines since 1968. Blaine and David helped me with a basic basket toss, and the rest was simple gymnastics."

"But how...when...what?" Nick spluttered, leaning over the back of the chair.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Sue Sylvester has a punishing training routine, and would probably catch and kill me if I slacked off. I still train daily."

"Jesse St James?" Blaine asked, frowning at the name. Kurt rolled his eyes. "He attended McKinley for a while with the intent of sabotaging the glee club. Obviously, his attempts at spying and infiltration were rather better than mine-" Several Warblers laughed, remembering the 'Endearing Spy' incident. Blaine nodded, curious to hear more. "Did he do anything else?"

"He seduced Rachel- you know, loud brunette, sounds like a Broadway star?"

"The soloist girl?" Thad asked. "She's kinda pretty."

"And probably taken by someone, I'm not sure which love triangle is currently in action, but yes, her. Jesse flirted with her, then broke her heart and to cap it all, he and his friends threw eggs at her. She's a vegan." This produced several cries of sympathy and disgust, as well as some creative curses directed at Jesse.

Wes frowned. "Wait, so he infiltrated your glee club, and then attempted to break your main soloist?" he queried, straight-faced.

Kurt nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. Rachel was fine, really, she probably wrote an entire album of songs about-_ Wes!_ Don't be an idiot!" He kicked the back of the chair and turned to face the window.

Blaine's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Kurt?" The diva glared out of the window, ignoring everyone in the bus. Blaine leant back in his chair, then bolted upright, giving Wes a clout on the back of the head. "Seriously, Wes?"

"Took you long enough," the council member muttered. Blaine hit him again.

"Ow, Blaine! Remember you do boxing!"


	7. Purple

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

The first time the Warblers almost noticed Kurt's bruises was the infamous day when he first came to Dalton. As he leant back in the chair, he had twitched forward again, casually resting his elbows on the table. Wes and David attributed it to nervousness. He had just been caught spying, after all.

The second time the Warblers nearly found out about the bruises was during an art class on Kurt's second day. They were asked to draw injuries, in whatever medium they wished. Kurt used chalk pastels to draw scarily lifelike dark marks marring pale skin. Jeff and Nick just assumed that he was really good at art. They didn't know what talents he had yet, really.

The third time the Warblers came close to discovering Kurt's bruises was during a rehearsal. Thad had gently shoved him in the back to nudge him into the right position and he had stumbled with a slight hiss of pain. Kurt had blamed it on tripping on a lace. The practice had continued, and nobody had noticed that he was wearing loafers.

The Warblers actually found out after a last period gym class. A surprising amount of the Warblers were in the same class, as it was mixed years, and rather than heading off to Warbler practice in little groups, they tended to wait and head off together. That meant the room was pretty full. Jeff was bored. Very bored. His gaze landed on the sink in the corner and started flicking water at Nick. Nick splashed him back, and the final result was a small lake on the floor. (And two soaking, slightly sheepish Warblers.)

At the other end of the room, Kurt was folding his gym clothes neatly and placing them in his bag. Locker rooms still made him slightly jumpy. He tended to stick to a corner and change quickly, hoping nobody would see the various bruises. Today was no different. Straightening his tie, Kurt moved quickly and quietly towards the door, to wait outside where it was calmer. However, the puddle of water, almost invisible in the bright lighting, had other ideas. Kurt's foot skidded out from under him and he landed heavily on his back. The faint splash made by the water was drowned out by his involuntary cry of pain. The Warblers turned at the sound.

"Kurt?" The slim boy was flat on the floor, face scrunched in pain, hands clenched into fists. Jeff knelt next to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt, are you ok?" Kurt nodded awkwardly, but the faint whimper which escaped his gritted teeth said otherwise. "Oh, crap. Nick, text Blaine, tell him he needs to come here, like, _now_."

"Why?"

"He knows Kurt best. I think he's hurt." Nick pulled out his phone and did as Jeff asked. Jeff tapped Kurt on the shoulder. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his face had gone paler than the greyish floor he was lying on. "Kurt, do you think you can sit up?" He worked his hands under the boy's shoulders, trying to lift him out of the puddle. As his fingertips pressed into the skin, Kurt choked on a scream. "Ok, that's a no, then," Jeff muttered, gently laying Kurt down again. Less than ten minutes later, a completely frantic Blaine Anderson burst into the room, slipped on a trailing bag strap and crashed into a wall with a muffled curse. The noise made Kurt's eyes open, the usually clear blue-green clouded with pain.

Blaine regained his balance and dropped to his knees next to Kurt. "Kurt! Are you ok? What happened?"

"Fell," Kurt whispered back, voice shaky with pain. Jeff backed off as Blaine tried to help Kurt up, wincing at every gasp and choked cry. Instead, he turned to Nick.

"What did you tell him?"

Nick looked puzzled. "What you said. Kurt was hurt and he should come now. I guess he did that crazy panicking thing again?" By now, Blaine had gotten Kurt leaning heavily against the wall. He turned to the anxiously staring Warblers, face blank.

"I'm taking Kurt up to his room. Tell Wes we'll at least be very late to practice, if we come at all." The group murmured in understanding, drifting out of the room.

Jeff patted Kurt on the shoulder, jerking his hand back when the boy winced. "Hope you feel better soon, Kurt."

* * *

It took nearly twenty minutes to reach Kurt's room. By the time they got there, the taller boy was trembling uncontrollably, and as he sank stiffly onto the bed, a few tears slipped down his face. Blaine pulled a small bottle off his desk, checking the label before twisting the lid off.

"Will these help?" he asked, holding it up. Kurt nodded, reaching out a hand before pulling it back with a low hiss. Blaine passed it over, allowing Kurt to take the painkillers before sitting next to him.

"What happened?" he said gently, scanning Kurt's face.

Kurt sighed. "I slipped, I think. One minute I was walking, the next I was flat on my back and Jeff was looking really worried." His voice was clearer now, but still slightly shaky. "

I'm not surprised, Kurt. You're still really pale, and you're shivering. Take this," Blaine added, pulling off his blazer and indicating Kurt's soaked one.

Reluctantly, Kurt took it. "We should tell them," he decided aloud. Blaine raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I think I need to let them know, because it sounds like I really scared Jeff, and the doctor says it'll be another two weeks or so until they heal. I can't keep dodging every time someone tries to pat me on the back," he explained, glancing at Blaine.

Blaine nodded. "Ok. But rest first. Let the painkillers kick in."

* * *

The knock on the door stopped the practice short. Thad opened it, expecting to see a visitor. Instead, Kurt and Blaine entered. Before anyone could say a word, Kurt held up a hand.

"Firstly, I'd like to apologise for my dramatics earlier. I think that the reason for them should become apparent in the next few minutes," he said carefully, looking straight at Jeff. Then, with the entire room silent, he took off his blazer and tie. Blaine helped him slide the shirt off his shoulders, and the undershirt.

David coughed awkwardly.

Then Kurt turned round, and everyone gasped. Almost all of Kurt's back was some shade of purple. Ranging from almost black to a greener colour, it was clear that there were hundreds of bruises in various stages of healing.

"Holy crap," Nick breathed, staring at the marks across the pale shoulder blades. Kurt reached for his shirt again, buttoning it up stiffly.

"What the hell happened to you?" Thad asked in horror.

Kurt winced as he shrugged. "Locker slams, mostly. Back in McKinley. They're healing, but it'll take a while. It just hurts if people touch them, or if I stretch wrong or lean on them," he explained simply. The Warblers nodded.

This explained the drawings, the incredibly lifelike pictures of darkly bruised skin.

This explained the constant flinching, Kurt's reluctance to change in front of the other boys.

But staring at the quiet boy at the front of the room, with the sickening image of the bruises seared into their minds, the Dalton Academy Warblers really wished it didn't.


	8. Diver

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

there was one thing Jeff was good at, aside from singing, it was losing things. This time it was the card he'd been writing for his grandmother. Frantically, he rummaged through his stuff, tossing stationery, books and paper over the floor. Nick leant on the doorframe and observed him calmly.

"You're laughing at me," Jeff complained, looking up to catch the smile playing round Nick's face.

Nick shrugged. "Jeff, have you even_ tried_ thinking about this logically?"

"Of course I have!" A glance at the chaotic room. "Well, you know what my logic's like."

"Non-existent?" Nick commented wryly, putting his toe on a felt tip pen rolling under the bed. Jeff rolled his eyes, sitting down on a pile of papers. They promptly collapsed.

"Well, you're not much better," he muttered, thinking of the haphazard mess of homework and sweet wrappers littering the other boy's room. Nick joined him on the floor, identical expressions of hopelessness on both faces.

Then Jeff's face lit up. "We need someone who_ is_ organised and logical!"

Nick frowned for a second, then smiled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Five minutes later, a certain countertenor was being hauled up the stairs, protesting all the way. Nick and Jeff prodded him into Jeff's mess of a room, steering him onto the bed and staring at him expectantly.

Kurt raised a sceptical eyebrow. "What exactly is going on here?"

"I lost my gran's birthday card and can't find it and I've looked but my room exploded so Nick said I had no logic and then we thought that you did so can you help find it please?" Jeff gabbled in one breath.

Kurt blinked. "I'm sorry, _what?_"

Eventually, in bits and pieces, the two managed to explain the story. Kurt's eyebrows climbed higher and higher, threatening to disappear into his perfectly styled hair. Nick and Jeff leaned back and grinned. "So, will you help?"

Kurt sighed. "Fine. Where did you last have it?"

Jeff thought for a minute, then grinned. That was how they visited, one after the other, Nick's room, the Warbler's practice room, three different classrooms, and eventually, the cafeteria. Here, they crawled around under the empty tables until a confused dinner lady came and asked them what they were doing. Jeff explained, slightly sheepishly.

"Well, any scrap paper left lying around generally gets thrown out at the end of the day." Jeff's face fell. "If you're careful, you can go and check the dumpsters out behind the main building." Kurt sighed again, and thanked the dinner lady as the other boys vanished.

When he arrived next to the dumpsters, Nick and Jeff were jumping up and down trying to see inside.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You do realise you'll actually have to climb in to look?" he told them.

Jeff nodded. "It's too tall. We can't reach properly." He frowned for a second, then beamed. "I know!"

That was how Kurt ended up lying in the dumpster, staring at the clear sky and the edge of Dalton's roof. This was definitely not an experience he had planned on repeating.

"Kurt, are you ok? I think we boosted you a bit too hard." Nick's voice drifted over the metal.

"Can you see the card?" Jeff added anxiously. Sitting up, Kurt could see a tuft of blond hair bobbing up and down as the ever-hyperactive boy started jumping again. Calling back a response, Kurt started looking round the dumpster. Surprisingly quickly, he spotted a bag which was torn open, spilling papers on top of the other rubbish. Rummaging in it, he pulled out a simple blue and white card. "Is this it?" he called, waving it over the edge. The paper was instantly snatched from his fingers. Jeff stuck around long enough to help Kurt out of the dumpster and thank him, before racing off to find an envelope in the chaos currently covering his room.

Nick walked back with Kurt, rolling his eyes at Jeff's antics. "Sorry for tossing you in a dumpster," he said awkwardly.

Kurt shrugged. "It's ok. I'm used to it." In response to Nick's questioning look, he pulled up his blazer sleeve to show a series of faded white scars on his forearm. "There was broken glass at the bottom of one once. Jocks thought it was funny to chuck us in. I was a favourite victim because I was small, light, and made a fuss about my clothes," he explained quietly.

Nick gasped, eyeing the scars with a wince. "Do they still do it?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. Puck- remember, the guy with a mohawk- was the leader of that particular activity, and he stopped when he joined Glee."

"Oh."

They walked in silence for a while, then Kurt smiled. "Hey, I wonder how long it'll take Jeff to realise he'll need help getting his room sorted?"


	9. First Kiss

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Kurt hated Truth or Dare. Playing with Santana at New Directions Girls sleepovers meant that the game sent shivers down his spine, in fear of a terrifying dare or really awkward question. However, as David's idea of childish party games imitating teambuilding activities had surprisingly impressed Wes and Thad, this was what was happening.

"Blaine, Truth or Dare!"

"Dare," Blaine replied confidently.

Jeff smirked. "Kiss anyone in the circle-" Blaine nodded. "Who you're not going out with. Sorry, Kurt," he added quickly. Blaine raised an eyebrow before leaning forward and kissing Jeff on the cheek. The Warblers dissolved into laughter as Jeff turned scarlet.

"So, Nick," Blaine said casually. "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare!" Nick said promptly. Blaine stuck his tongue out at him.

"Fine. I dare you to lick your elbow."

The group watched Nick's contortions for several minutes before allowing him to give up and moving on.

"Kurt. Truth or Dare?" Nick said hopefully.

"Truth," Kurt said apprehensively.

Nick frowned. "Was Blaine the first non-family person you kissed, and if not, who was?" he asked.

"Two questions!" Blaine called, trying to interrupt. Kurt shook his head, trying to convey that it was fine.

"The first person I kissed was Brittany S. Pierce. She is a ditzy blonde cheerleader who I dated for less than a week when I was trying to convince my dad that I was straight because he was spending more time with my now-stepbrother Finn and I thought that he would love me if I was closer to his idea of a perfect son, hence the butch clothes, low voice and Mellencamp song."

The Warblers were silent for a full fifteen seconds, mouths open with amazement.

"You _dated_ a cheerleader?"

"You sang _Mellencamp_?"

"Butch clothes? Like...normal jeans?"

"A _cheerleader_? So not fair."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but smiled gently at Blaine's look of surprise. "Yes, I dated a cheerleader, Jeff. I sang Pink Houses in my lower range, Thad, and I also wore a baseball cap, David. Wes, she only went out with me to complete her record of kissing every boy in the school. I can try and set you up, but I give you fair warning, she's _different_."

"How different?" Wes asked, looking like he wouldn't care if Brittany had two heads and only spoke in Ancient Greek. Kurt only smirked.

"You sorted things out with your dad, though, right?" Blaine asked, thinking of the good relationship he'd seen so far.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I eventually went back to my normal self, sang my own version of 'Rose's Turn', and everything's fine. I even get on with Finn now, after a bit of trouble."

The Warblers didn't really feel like playing truth and dare again after all that.

* * *

Two weeks later, Kurt had a panicked text from Wes, who was in the middle of his first date with Brittany.

**Kurt: She's really pretty, but really weird. She asked me if I was a dolphin or canary, then told me I must be a flying fish. What does that mean? Also, why does she call you a unicorn? -Wes.**


	10. Solo

**_If you recognise it, it's not mine._**

* * *

_"Kurt! How's it going in the aviary?"_

"What?" Kurt paused beside his desk, pressing his phone to his ear.

_"With the birds."_

"Brittany, it's a school."

_"Do you have an owl?"_

"It's not Hogwarts either, Britt. Listen, the Warblers want me to teach them how to cheer-"

_"You can't do that. Rule number three hundred and eight in the Official Sue Sylvester Lawbook: Any cheerleader, current or alumni, cannot use the elite cheerleading secrets taught to them to enlighten mere mortals, punishment on pain of extreme public humiliation,"_ Brittany recited in one breath.

Kurt blinked in surprise. "How do you know all that? So I can't teach them cheerleading for the competition."

_"No. Besides, won't you have a solo?"_ Brittany asked expectantly.

"Britt, these guys give out solos based on talent alone, not just favouritism. Despite that, I didn't succeed in my audition."

_"Why not? You're really good!"_

"But the council thought I was too loud, too different."

_"Like when the jocks pushed you around? But I thought that it was different there."_

"Well, rather than having to try really hard to stay different, I have to fit in here, Britt."

_"But you worked so hard be good here. It's not fair,"_ Brittany said sadly.

"Life isn't fair, Britt. Just because I could go about singing what I wanted and dressing however I liked at McKinley, the jocks were always shoving me down, and Mr Schue always gave every solo to Rachel or someone. Hell, even Mercedes was guaranteed to be allowed to belt out the top notes. Here, I'm supposedly allowed to be who I want, but if I try to express myself, I'm shot down."

_"Doesn't that hurt? And it's illegal to have a gun in school."_

"It hurts, but not that way, Brittany."

* * *

Outside the door, Blaine heard the heavy sigh. His heart twisted. This completely explained the countertenor's recent quietness. He'd originally put it down to Dalton's intense workload, but if Kurt had been so used to harsh treatment at McKinley, it was no surprise that he'd been hurt by the council's comments. He had been too busy preparing for Sectionals to look as deeply into the matter as he should have.

Back in the room, there was a pause, then Kurt's voice spoke up again, laughing a little. "Yeah, I bet you and Mike would knock us off the stage even if I _could_ teach them to cheer."

Blaine rolled his eyes at the mention of David's latest crazy idea. The mere thought of Thad attempting a cartwheel again made him wince, remembering the broken vases, tables and an unlucky window which had resulted in a ban on any dancing more complex than their signature shuffle. He raised a hand and knocked on the door.

"Hang on, there's someone at the door- yeah, I'll put you on speaker."

Kurt pulled open the door, tapping a button on his phone with his other hand. A bubbly girl's voice

_"Hi, Kurt's friend! Have you come to give him a solo, because Kurt can sing really well and his hands are very soft."_

"Blaine, meet Brittany. Brittany, this is Blaine." Blaine said hello to the phone, sending Kurt a questioning glance, and a delighted giggle came in response.

_"Hi, Blaine Warbler!"_

"Hi, Brittany. You're in New Directions, right?"

_"Yeah. Rachel sings mostly. I dance. I'm really good at dancing."_

"Yeah, I heard."

Kurt glared at him. "You were listening in!" he accused. Blaine shook his head.

"Not really. I only heard the last few seconds," he lied. "I'm really sorry about Wes and David, they're just-"

_"Mean,"_ Brittany interjected firmly.

"No, I get that they have a certain standard they want everyone to conform to," Kurt said, glancing at Blaine subtly. Judging by the thuds coming through the phone, Brittany seemed to be jumping up up and down.

"Brittany, is everything ok?"

_"Is Blaine the right standard?"_ the girl asked excitedly. Kurt glanced at Blaine again.

"I guess so, yeah."

_"Then sing a duet! Sing a duet with Blaine!"_ she shrieked madly. Blaine stared at Kurt, then stood up.

"I'll ask Wes," he muttered, but his eyes were shining with barely contained excitement. His head was spinning with ideas. If he could just convince the council, this was the perfect way to apologise, and maybe even more... Then he was gone, sprinting along the corridor. Kurt hugged his phone.

"Brittany, you're a genius. Thank you so much!"

Brittany laughed. _"We're still totally going to beat you, though."_


	11. Rooftop

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Kurt wasn't scared of heights.

Solid, relatively flat, a pretty good view (well, sometimes), he found tall buildings about as challenging as the Warbler's dancing. It was just as well, really, because David had recently decided that the Warblers should do a supposedly 'impromptu' performance on the slightly sloping surface above the cafeteria. However, for some reason, this was also where all the TV aerials and for the school were placed. When David had asked the principal about his idea, he had found out that only two of the dozen or so aerials were operational, so if the Warblers wanted to put on a performance, they could take off the extra clutter first. That was why Kurt was on Dalton Academy's cafeteria roof at half past one in the afternoon. Due to the timing, the main student body stared up at them through the thick skylights, attempting to eat their lunch at the same time. Blaine waved cheerfully at Jeff, who was being restrained by Nick in his attempts to join them.

David handed out various tools. "Right, there's only about five of us, so if we can do two each, that should work out quite well."

Someone asked which ones not to take down, and David pulled off both his and Thad's ties, wrapping them round a couple of devices.

"There you go. Not the ones with ties on, ok? Let's get started, then."

It was surprising, to say the least, when Kurt looked up from unscrewing his second aerial to see Wes and Thad staring at him, their aerials still firmly attatched to the roof. Blaine was still yanking at the screws, unsuccessfully, while David had managed to get half of the screws for his first aerial out.

"How did you do that?" Thad asked in amazement.

Kurt shrugged. "Practice, I guess."

"What, you take a lot of aerials off roofs?" David asked sceptically.

"No, but the jocks once nailed all our garden furniture to the roof of my house."

Cries of shock and sympathy, and a clang of a dropped spanner, made Kurt blush.

"How did you get them off again?" Wes asked, glaring at the stubborn aerials.

"The jocks had been in a hurry. They weren't nailed down tightly, so we could get the nails out quite easily. I had to tell my dad, though, so I could use the skylight. It was the first thing about my bullying he heard, unfortunately. I hadn't really wanted to tell him anything."

Blaine moved over the roof to sit next to Kurt. "How did he react?"

"He wasn't happy, especially when he realised that I didn't tell him stuff. I just don't like worrying people."

"Well, you can always tell us," Blaine said, resting a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Not that anything's going to happen, because of the zero tolerance policy," Wes added. The group agreed. The moment of peace and friendship was slightly ruined by a sudden cold drizzle. Kurt instantly threw a hand to his hair, ignoring the rolled eyes of the others. David groaned, glaring at the sky.

"Well, that's the performance off, then."


	12. Garage

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Wes said it was Jeff's fault.

Jeff said it was Blaine's fault.

Blaine said it was Thad's fault.

Thad said it was Nick's fault.

Nick said it was David's fault.

David said it was Kurt's fault.

Kurt rolled his eyes at all of them, pointed out that Wes had been driving, got out of the van and started messing around with the engine. The bewildered Warblers stared at him. Blaine rolled down the window. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

"Currently checking the oil level of this heap of junk you like to call a van," Kurt said crisply. Wes spluttered in protest.

David wound down his window. "Why are you poking at the engine?"

"I'm not poking it, I'm trying to fix it," came the response. Wes got out of the van and stood next to him, trying to understand what was going on.

"Is it that?" he said, pointing to something which looked like it had fallen off an alien spaceship. Kurt gave him a withering look.

Wes got back in the van.

Suddenly, Kurt slammed the engine shut, budged Wes aside to sit in the driver's seat, and turned the key. The van shook a little, coughed briefly and died again. Kurt brushed dust from his hands, looking ruefully at the oil smudges. "You're out of fuel," he said briskly. Wes stared at him.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. Tell you what, I'll call my dad to pick us up."

"You don't need to do that, I'll just call the garage. I've been meaning to get this looked at for a while now," Wes said, pulling out his phone. Kurt waited patiently while he talked with the garage, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Wes hung up a few minutes later. "He'll be here in around half an hour."

The others groaned. Kurt sighed. "Wes, what garage do you use?" he asked calmly.

"Hummel Tyres and Lube. Granted, it's quite far away, but the service is excellent," Wes replied. Kurt stared at him pointedly.

"Oh."

"Yes," Kurt said dryly. "Clue's in the name, gentlemen."

"Oh!" Jeff cried, working it out a few seconds later. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. Wes blushed scarlet, and the next twenty or so minutes passed in an awkward silence. David attempted to start up a rendition of 'Drive My Car', but everyone was too busy trying to figure out how_ Kurt_ could possibly be a mechanic in his spare time to give it much thought. The countertenor in question was currently attempting to clean the oil off his hands with a handful of damp grass. Eventually an old tow truck pulled up in the layby in front of the van. A man Wes vaguely recognised as Kurt's father climbed out. Kurt ran to meet him, talking a mile a minute. Mr Hummel pulled open the hood and prodded the engine a few times, his movements scarily similar to his son's, before leaning in and turning the key. The van barely twitched.

"You're out of fuel, kid," Mr Hummel stated, his voice gruff and deep. Wes blinked, looking at the badly covered smirks of his friends and Kurt's 'I told you so' face.

"Oh," he said again.


	13. Threatened

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

Going by general teenage boy behaviour, Kurt should not have been so surprised by the amount of threats which were tossed around on a daily basis at Dalton Academy.

"Jeff, you are _so_ dead!"

"Miss Perry is going to murder me when she sees this..."

"Blaine! Give the gavel back _right now,_ or I will cut you up and feed you to Pavarotti!"

And so on.

Kurt wasn't threatened for a long while, mostly because he was helpful and kept his head down, rather acting as than a blazer-wearing lump of chaos. But it had to happen sometime.

Warbler rehearsals were usually calm, collected, meticulously planned and everyone may as well be singing robots. That was how smooth and tight the Council's organisation skills were. Peace reigned in the practice room, except when one topic was brought up.

Solos.

"Now, for the next competition, we will perform three numbers-"

"Dibs!" Nick yelled, waving his hand in the air. Wes smiled patiently and continued. "There will be a solo, a duet, and a song with multiple soloists. To showcase as many voices as possible, nobody can audition for more than one spot."

Jeff nudged Kurt in the side, a little harder than he intended to, but still playfully. "Kurt, if you get this duet too, I swear I'm going to kill you."

The thing was, Jeff was a pretty good actor. His voice was deadly serious, slightly lower than usual. Kurt stiffened in his seat, blinking rapidly as he continued to listen to the Council speaking.

"Auditions will begin next week. If you wish to apply, please speak to myself, Thad or David before the end of this week. Now, let's begin."

The rest of the group stood up, and Kurt moved with them, rising to his feet, subconsciously pulling away from Jeff. He stumbled backwards into Blaine's arm, and jumped at the contact.

"Hey, are you okay?" Blaine whispered. Kurt nodded, keeping one eye on Jeff, even as he tried to look away. The warmup began with scales, gradually going higher and higher. It was a mild competition between the boys, and Kurt usually outsang all of them. Today, however, he reached a note and paused. The last boy dropped out with a laugh, and everyone turned to Kurt, expecting him to carry on. Kurt blinked nervously under the many stares. Wes played the note on the piano again. "Kurt, are you feeling okay?" he asked when there was no response from the countertenor. Jeff moved across the circle, raising a hand to place it on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt flinched away, bumping into Blaine again. He felt an arm wrap around him, steadying him, trapping him. "Kurt?" he heard, worried and caring. "Do you need some space?"

Kurt nodded, twisting free.

"Do you want me to come?" Another nod, more hesitant this time, then Kurt edged away, leaving the room silently. Blaine chased after him, pausing at the door. "Just start without us, guys." Then he was gone. They could hear his footsteps pattering along the floor, hear him calling out softly as he went.

"Kurt!" Blaine called, reaching the entrance hall. The wide white staircase stretched away in front of him, and several corridors branched out to the side. "Kurt? Where are you?" A muffled sound from the stairs made him pause. Blaine turned and silently crept to the foot of the marble steps. Behind them, in the small, sloping hollow, Kurt was pressed tightly to the wall, one trembling hand over his mouth.

"Hey," Blaine whispered, as if he was talking to a scared animal.

"Hey," Kurt muttered back. Blaine knelt in front of the taller boy, holding out a hand. Kurt shifted slightly, pale skin colouring.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked again. Kurt hesitated, then shook his head. Then he nodded. "Better," he said quietly.

Blaine touched Kurt's hand gently. "Want to come out of there?" he asked, pleased when Kurt accepted the help. They sat on the stairs together, hands lightly linked. Kurt closed his eyes as his breathing slowed, relaxing.

"Better?" Blaine squeezed his hand gently. Kurt squeezed back in response. "Want to talk about it?" he offered, turning to face the other boy.

Kurt laughed softly. "It's kinda stupid," he said, opening his eyes. "Wes was explaining about the solos, and Jeff said that if I got the duet again, he'd kill me."

"Oh."

"I know he was only joking, but I just needed some space, and the more I thought about it, the more panicked I got. Sorry," he finished, tapping the fingers of his free hand on his knee.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Kurt. Should we go back through now?" Blaine suggested.

Kurt sighed. "I'm going to have to explain again, aren't I?" he said resignedly.

They walked through the hallway slowly, and Blaine knocked on the door before entering. The song trailed off.

"Sorry?" Kurt tried, before he was knocked backwards by Jeff. Blaine pulled the blonde boy away gently before Kurt fell over.

"Kurt, are you okay? Was it something I said?"

Kurt rested a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "It's fine," he said, loud enough so that everyone could hear. "I just don't do well with death threats."

Jeff looked so miserable that Kurt pulled him into a hug, and then everyone else edged in. It only lasted a few seconds, then the Warblers shifted back into formation, no questions asked.


	14. Finn

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

"Who the hell is that?"

Three things about Dalton Academy.

One- It was full of very nosy teenage boys.

Two- The French classroom on the second floor had an excellent view of the car park.

And at that precise moment, said nosy teenage boys were crammed up against said classroom window, peering down at one Kurt Hummel and the boy he was currently hugging.

"Look, now he's messing up his hair! He'll never get away with that!"

A collective wince a few seconds later proved that the stranger didn't.

After several minutes of chatting and a last hug, the tall stranger got into a slightly battered car and drove away. Kurt stood in the parking lot for a few minutes before turning to come back inside.

The third thing about Dalton Academy? Nobody is graceful when scrabbling away from a window ledge, but only in Dalton could they have knocked over a stack of textbooks, broken a pot plant, torn two blazers and caused a minor nosebleed in the process. Hearing the commotion from the entrance hall, Kurt came up the stairs, expecting some form of carnage. What he didn't expect was to see his friends sprawled in a heap under a desk, glaring at him fiercely.

"Did I do something wrong? Are you guys okay?" he asked, gathering up the scattered textbooks.

"Why goo tealing don Baine?" Nick asked, holding a crumpled tissue to his bleeding nose.

Kurt frowned. "What?"

"Don't lie," Wes said, wriggling out from under the group. "We all saw you."

"Yeah," Jeff added, not sounding quite so scary with his face pressed against the radiator. "You were hugging him, and you let him mess up your hair..."

Kurt stared at them, confusion etched plainly on his features. "I'm sorry, _what_? When was this?"

David sighed. "You were cheating on Blaine three minutes ago with the guy down there!" he explained, gesturing to the window.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, then his face cleared. "Wait, you think that I'm cheating on Blaine with the guy I was talking to there?"

The group nodded.

Kurt lasted approximately four seconds before bursting into hysterical laughter. "You thought I was cheating, on Blaine, with...with _Finn?"_

The Warblers exchanged glances, feeling as if they were missing something important.

"You mean you're not?" Thad asked, unceremoniously shoving Jeff off his knees.

Kurt laughed even harder. "Finn's my _stepbrother!_ My _straight_ stepbrother!"

The other Warblers fell silent, waiting for Kurt to stop laughing. Eventually, they were all upright, staring at the countertenor as if he'd grown a second head.

"You have a stepbrother?" Jeff said slowly, vaguely recalling Kurt mentioning him before. Kurt nodded patiently. "Who you're not going out with?"

"God, no! I mean, I used to have a crush on him, and ended up introducing our parents to each other, but that was ages ago."

The Warblers exchanged 'what-the-hell' looks. Kurt shrugged. "Look, I was the only gay kid in school, and he was nicer than the other bullies-"

"How?" David asked bluntly.

"He held my jacket before they chucked me in the dumpster."

"Dude, you have weird taste in guys," Wes said. "Not including Blaine," he added hastily.

David snorted. "Wes, your last girlfriend called you a flying fish, for some reason. Can you really talk?"

"It was just a date," Wes muttered, a dark flush creeping up the back of his neck. "Anyway, you had a crush on your bully? So you introduced your parents, and they got married. Logical, Kurt."

"How did that work out, anyway? Moving in with a bully?" Jeff asked without thinking. He instantly regretted it at the flash of pain which flitted over Kurt's features.

Kurt sighed, placing the stack of textbooks on the nearest desk. "He had typically narrow views, and we nearly ruined both relationships when he called my bedroom 'faggy', but as you can tell, we're really close now. He's stood up for me a few times, and I sometimes give him advice." He straightened the textbooks and looked critically round the room. "Nick, tilt your head back and pinch the top of your nose. That's it. Oh, and the bell going to ring in about two minutes. You might want to clear up a bit." He got halfway out of the door before turning back. "By the way, you guys are even worse spies than me." Then he was gone, still smiling slightly to himself.

"Let's not mention this to Blaine," David said sheepishly. The others agreed.

However, the next time Finn visited, he was ambushed by five blazer-clad boys, all staring at him.

"Hi?" Finn tried hopefully, looking from one to the other.

"We're friends with Kurt," one of them said, stepping forward. The others followed.

"He's awesome."

"We don't let people hurt him."

"But we respect people who take care of each other."

"And therefore, Finn Hudson, any friend of Kurt's is a friend of ours."

The group kept staring at Finn. Finn blinked, trying to get over the creepiness of the whole thing. "I'm not spying on you!" he blurted quickly, before thinking more slowly. Then he smiled, seeing Kurt strolling along the hall with that guy- Blaine. He looked happy, and safe, dressed in the neat blazer and tie. Finn glanced back at the group of boys, who were already drifting away. "Hey, guys?" he said, quiet enough so that Kurt wouldn't hear him. "Thanks for taking care of my brother."


	15. This Is Her Son

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

At the harsh scraping sound, Wes and David instantly looked up in time to see Kurt shoving his chair back and storming out of the room. Blaine was left sitting at the table, face crumpled in confusion. Wes tapped him on the shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Blaine said, eyes wide and worried. "I was just asking him if he was doing anything for Mother's Day, because you know what he's like with organising stuff, and he said he wasn't, so I asked why, and he wouldn't answer. I though he hadn't heard me, so I asked again, and he just left. Did I do something wrong?"

Wes and David exchanged glances, tugging Blaine out of his seat and over to a quiet corner. "I guess you didn't know," David sighed dramatically, panicking Blaine more. Wes simultaneously clapped a palm over David's mouth and a gentler hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Blaine, his mom's dead."

Blains blinked. "How do you know that?"

"He told us, a while ago, when you were at the boxing thing."

Blaine's hands flailed miserably. "Crap. I knew he had a stepmom, I just thought... He's going to hate me now, I'm such a... Crap."

This time he was looking at the staring group of students, well within earshot. His face flushed as Wes and David frogmarched him out of the room and along the corridor to Kurt's room. Before Blaine could protest, David knocked sharply on the door.

"Go away, Blaine!"

Blaine recoiled from the door as if it would bite him. Wes pushed it gently, swinging it open to reveal Kurt huddled on his bed, glaring steadily at them. Blaine stood awkwardly in the doorway, resisting the subtle nudges into the room.

"Apologise!" David hissed.

"Kurt, I'm honestly sorry, I had no idea..."

"Clearly," Kurt said icily. Blaine dropped his gaze, feeling the sharp sting of tears behind his eyes.

Wes sighed. "Look, Kurt, what Blaine means is that he's an idiot with about as much tact as...as a squirrel!"

Kurt smiled, uncurling slightly.

"Now he is going to grovel on the floor and beg for forgiveness while me and Wes flick little scraps of paper at his head," David suggested. Blaine stamped on his toe, moving a couple of meters away from them.

"Last time you tried that, Thad nearly killed you both for trashing his room, and his biology notes," he reminded the other boys. Kurt hid his smirk. "Kurt, I really am sorry, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Kurt shifted sideways on the bed, gesturing to the space without looking at Blaine. The shorter boy moved forward tentatively, then stumbled as Wes and David gave him a shove. Kurt nodded to the door pointedly, and they bowed their heads and left, clicking the door shut behind them.

"My mom died when I was eight," Kurt said softly. "The worst thing about it was when people didn't know, when they thought she was still sick, and they'd come up and ask how she was doing. Even now I tend to freeze up when people ask stuff." He wrapped his arms round his knees and stared at the opposite wall. Blaine rested a gentle arm on his shoulder, and the taller boy leant into the contact. "We still get phone calls. You know, sales calls, mostly, the occasional hate call."

"Hate call?" Blaine asked, not sure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Stuff about how all gays should die, blah blah blah. Usually I intercept them before dad, and it's fine." The tremble in his voice on the last word said otherwise."The sales calls are the worst, because they happen so often. You know, all _'Hi, I'm calling from a random place you've never heard of, please can I speak to Mrs Hummel?"_

Blaine winced. "What do you say?" he asked, tightening his grip on Kurt's shoulders.

"No, she's dead, this is her son." Kurt's voice was soft and bitter, with the flatness of someone who had repeated the line too many times. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

"Do you want a hug?" Blaine asked after several minutes of silence. Hesitantly, Kurt nodded.

Outside the door, two ridiculously nosy Warblers were squashed against the wood trying to look through the keyhole.

"I bet they're making out."


	16. Quam

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

"Okay, who's she? Is she single?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. What had started as him watching old New Directions videos on his own had snowballed into the entirety of the Warblers crowding round his laptop, and the group photo of his friends which served as the desktop background.

According to Wes and David, it really wasn't spying because it was nothing to do with the actual performances, and Kurt was perfectly welcome to take a photo and introduce the Warblers to the New Directions, especially the girls.

To which Kurt replied that naming the Warblers would be like playing Where's Wally, and there was no way he was introducing any of them to Santana, no matter how short her skirt was.

After that, they switched tactics.

"Who's he? Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Thad, you know that's my stepbrother, Finn," Kurt said wearily.

"Yeah, but does he have a girlfriend, and if so, who?"

Kurt reached for the off switch. "Right, that's it. You do know that I can tell that you're just trying to get me to set you up with my friends, and that is a _horrifically_ unsubtle attempt at finding out which ones are single."

"Wait!" Jeff called, finger stabbing the screen. "Who's that?"

"Sam Evans. As far as I know, he's going out with Quinn."

"Seriously?" The only thing in the room funnier than Jeff's widened eyes was David thumping his head against the wall, muttering something about thinking he had a chance. "Seriously? He dyes his hair, doesn't he?"

Kurt shrugged. "That's what I thought, but apparently he isn't even bi."

David was still muttering something about _'stupid blonde Bieber kid'_. Kurt ignored him, and the rest followed suit.

"Can he sing?"

"Wes, you know he can sing, he was in the duet at Sectionals," Kurt said, remembering how surprised he'd been when the two blondes had stepped onstage.

"Oh yeah...I thought you said it was usually your stepbrother who got the solo?"

"Mercedes, -no, I am not setting you up, Nick- she told me that the winners of this duet competition we did got the solos."

Thad reached out and tapped the screen, matching up people. "Did you go with the mohawk guy then?"

"No, he was in juvie. I was going to go with Sam, actually, but he ended up with Quinn."

"Why?" David asked, possibly looking for hints of how he attracted her.

"Because Finn told me not to go with him because it would look 'gay' and discourage him from staying in the club," Kurt said bitterly. The Warblers winced, and Blaine reached out to give him a hug.

Jeff pulled a sad face. "Who'd you go with, then?"

Kurt shifted in his chair awkwardly, looking at his feet. Blaine guessed what he meant first. "No way. How did you do a duet with yourself?"

"Ididlejazot," Kurt mumbled, flushing pink.

"What?"

"I did 'Le Jazz Hot' from Victor/Victoria. I made a costume split in two halves, and sang both parts."

The room went silent, until it was interrupted by David thumping his head against the wall again. "And Quinn still went with Sam? What does a guy have to do to get himself noticed there?"

"To be fair, David, everyone knew I was gay in McKinley. Except Sam. He found out later, I guess," Kurt pointed out, placing a pillow in between David's head and the wall. "Try not to dent the paintwork, maybe?"

He switched off his laptop firmly, and this time, nobody argued.

* * *

**Huge thank you to Sarahamanda Klaine and LvSammy for their constant encouragement.**


	17. The Big One

_If you recognise it, it's not mine._

* * *

"Today's class is going to be focussed on relationships," the teacher said. The gathered boys rolled their eyes. The personal experiences class was awkward. It was often on things which they had been taught since elementary school. Worst of all, it was compulsary.

"I'm sure most of you know what sort of things contribute to a good relationship," she continued. "Maturity, communication, balance, to name a few."

"Protection!" someone called loudly. Miss Rayne raised an eyebrow as the class laughed.

"Also a good idea, yes," she said calmly. "However, these things are often not taken into account, and relationships can turn sour."

For the next ten minutes or so, she talked about abusive relationships, detailing physical and emotional abuse. Kurt listened, not really contributing, but paying attention all the same.

"Sexual abuse is a problem which is becoming more and more serious in recent years," Miss Rayne said, gesturing to a statistics chart. "It is a punishable offence, and severe consequences can stem from the most minor incident. Sexual abuse is not limited to rape. Any type of sexual activity, even a kiss, which is forced upon someone without full consent on both sides is classified as assault, and appropriate actions can be taken."

Kurt raised his hand. "May I go to the toilet, please?" he asked quietly. His voice was clear and steady, but Jeff could see his other hand tightly clenching round the hem of his blazer, knuckles white. As Kurt left the room, Jeff raised his own hand.

"Miss Rayne? He looked a little sick. Should I go and check he's ok?"

"That's very kind of you, Mr Sterling. Take him to the nurse if you need to, ok?"

Jeff left the room, and paused outside the door, trying to figure out where the nearest bathroom was.

As he pushed open the door, a harsh retching sound stopped him in his tracks.

"Kurt?" he called uneasily, softly moving to the end stall. The door was unlocked, so he pushed it open. Kurt was curled against the wall, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Jeff dropped to his knees next to him, frowning at the boy's disheveled state. His hair was ruffled as if he'd been running his hands through it, and the hem of his blazer was being fidgeted with trembling fingers. Jeff pressed a hand against his shoulder gently, and Kurt scrabbled backwards, pressing against the wall.

"Kurt, it's me, it's Jeff," he said soothingly. "Do you want me to get Blaine?" The curly haired Warbler knew Kurt best, and would probably understand what was going on more than Jeff.

Kurt shook his head violently, hitting it hard off the wall. "No, I'm...I'm fine," he muttered, hesitating just a second too long. Jeff held out a hand, helping the other boy to his feet. Kurt's feet dragged along the floor, and his eyes were wide and panicked.

"Kurt, do you want to go to the nurse, or just up to your room?" he asked, holding the door open. Once Kurt was out of the door, he nodded quickly to Jeff and started walking away, stumbling slightly. Jeff let him go, guessing that he probably wanted time on his own.

Later that day, at lunch, Nick, Jeff and David were gathered in the courtyard.

"What do we have to do this week then?" David asked. The boys were in different classes, and regularly swapped information about tests, lesson plans and teacher moods.

"Relationships," Jeff replied, pulling a face. "All this stuff about abuse."

Nick looked thoughtful. "Kurt's in your class, isn't he?" he asked. Jeff nodded. "He wasn't in French earlier, is he in classes today?"

Jeff frowned. "He was earlier," he said, recounting the events of the class. David and Nick leant closer, brows furrowing in concern.

"That's how he usually acts when something triggers bad memories," David said worriedly. "You said the class was about abusive relationships?"

"You think Kurt was..." Nick trailed off, lowering his voice as a group of juniors passed them.

"Jeff, do you think he's still in his room?" David asked, standing up.

"You think we should check on him?"

"I think we should make sure he's alright."

The three boys made their way through the school, pausing outside Kurt's door.

"Should we knock?"

"Shhh! I can hear something!"

Holding his breath, Jeff put his ear to the keyhole. Two voices were talking quietly in the room. As he concentrated, he could make out who. Blaine and Kurt.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Sorry."

"It's fine. I wish you'd texted me earlier though."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Right." Blaine laughed a little. "Lunch should be over soon. Should I tell the teachers you're sick?"

"Please. Thanks, Blaine."

Jeff heard footsteps, and realised what was happening just a second too late. He fell into the room as Blaine tugged the door open. David and Nick peered awkwardly round the frame.

"Oh my god, were you listening in?" Kurt shrieked, nearly falling off the bed. Tear tracks glimmered on his face, and one hand was twisting in his bedsheets.

Jeff picked himself up slowly, flushing pink. "Not for long. We just wanted to check that you were okay. It was David's idea!" he added defensively.

"Check on him?" Blaine frowned quizzically.

"He's in my PSE class," Kurt said distractedly. Nick and David edged nervously into the room. Kurt picked up on how they were staring at him quickly. "Guys?" The two boys shuffled their feet silently. "What's going on?"

With a look of understanding dawning on his face, Blaine sat next to Kurt and whispered something in his ear. Kurt looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or vomit. "No! No, nothing like that!" he stammered anxiously. "It was just a kiss."

"Just a kiss?" Jeff asked sceptically, glancing at the tear marks.

Kurt sighed. "I don't like talking about it," he muttered miserably. Blaine squeezed his hand gently.

"You don't have to," David said quietly. "But it sounds like something serious, and talking about that sort of thing can help."

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, and closed it again. He looked across the room, at a little word collage stuck on his bookshelf.

Then he started to talk, haltingly at first, but then more fluidly, as if the story was spilling from his heart. Jeff sat in silence, hardly believing what he was hearing. It sounded like something out of a television show. When Kurt finished, he had tears in his eyes which were hurriedly blinked away. The three Warblers were lost for words, for once.

"Don't tell anyone," Kurt blurted, tapping his fingers against his knee anxiously. Blaine took his hand again reassuringly as the others nodded.

"Pinky promise," Jeff said, holding out his hand with a smile.


End file.
